The Chouan grinned. "You wanted me, Monsieur Augustin?"
"Yes. Sit down there. You know the Carhoët division well, don't you?"
"Like the palm of my hand, Monsieur Augustin." He began to arrange some of Anne's primroses on the ground. "See, here is Porhoët, the little fishing village, in the Bay of St. Guénaël, and there is Carhoët, seven miles inland, and there is the wood of Roscanvel, and there is Lanrivain, and close by there, I think, is the farm where 'M. Alexis' was killed the other day, as we heard. There is a path leading to it through a copse, and it was doubtless by that that the Blues came when they surprised him. . . . Yes, I know it well, though I cannot read the map. My sister lives at Carhoët, and I have a nephew at Roscanvel."
"Good," said La Vireville, studying the chart of blossoms. "Well, mon gars, I want to go to Carhoët directly I return from Jersey. You could meet me at the fishing village, Porhoët, I suppose, and conduct me to Carhoët and some other places that I want to visit there? Can one land with any measure of safety at Porhoët?"
Grain d'Orge nodded his great head. "Surely, Monsieur Augustin. 'M. Alexis' had an agent of some kind living at Porhoët for the Jersey correspondence, so that once I get into touch with him it should not be difficult. One should take precautions, though, in spite of the truce; is it not so, Monsieur Augustin?"
"The headache which I have at this moment, mon vieux, supplies a sufficient answer to that question."
"You will not go to the peace conferences at La Prévalaye, then, Monsieur Augustin?" asked his younger lieutenant.
La Vireville shrugged his shoulders. "Do you think, my dear Le Goffic, that I am a particularly good exemplar of peace—a man who has been fired on during this truce which Grain d'Orge so rightly distrusts? No, I do not believe in the possibility of a lasting peace at present, and I am sure that even if it is concluded it will be broken in a month or two. Neither side really wants it; they are merely deluded if they think they do. M. du Boishardy—he writes to me from La Prévalaye itself—is young and enthusiastic, and believes too readily in the good in other people. But he recognises that he is not likely to see me there—otherwise he would hardly have suggested my going over to Carhoët."
"Monsieur Augustin is right," said Grain d'Orge sagely, shaking his grizzled locks. "Nobody wants a peace, and it will not last."
"Well, you shall guide me to Carhoët from Porhoët in a day or two. I must make a try for Jersey to-night if the wind serves. Burn the flare at ten o'clock, for I think we shall find that the Jersey lugger will be off the point. I know that the Prince is impatient to see me, and it is possible that he may have forgotten I was coming from Southampton, not from here."